The Sri Lankan Government’s war on narcotics launched by President Anura Kumara Dissanayake on October 30, 2025 will be welcomed by all citizens concerned by the spread of harmful drugs that has penetrated all layers of society. The extent to which the scourge has spread is alarming  and needs to be curtailed without delay.  

The call by  President Anura Kumara Dissanayake  at the Sugathadasa Stadium at the launch of what he called a national mission to “root out the drug menace” —, country-wide campaign under the banners “Nation United” and “Ratama Ekata – National Operation” would undoubtedly have resonated with those families whose members had fallen prey to this addiction. 

The plan envisaged by Government is comprehensive: not a pure law-and-order drive, the President said, but a mix of enforcement, community mobilisation, prevention and rehabilitation — and a call for the media and civil society to play a constructive role. That mix reflects lessons learnt elsewhere: drugs cannot be solved by arrests alone, but they also cannot be solved without firm disruption of trafficking networks.  

What the President announced is ambitious — and necessarily so. Sri Lanka has seen a rapid rise in the availability and use of synthetic drugs and heroin in recent years, particularly among young people and in urban areas. The government’s new operation promises island-wide police action backed by military and tri-force assets, coordinated intelligence-led crackdowns on distribution networks, and an awareness campaign designed to enlist families, schools and community organisations in prevention. The declared logic is straightforward: suppress supply, reduce demand through prevention and treatment, and mobilise society to deny the market fertile ground. 

 There are several positive elements in the launch that deserve emphasis. First, the President’s speech repeatedly framed drug users as victims in need of care as much as enforcement — a rhetorical shift that opens political space for rehabilitation and harm-reduction services. At the inauguration he appealed directly to families and to those struggling with addiction, promising pathways to treatment rather than only punishment. If translated into budgets and services, this shift could reduce the revolving door between arrest, brief detention and relapse. 

Second, the campaign appears to be multi-agency from the outset. Cabinet approvals and official statements show the operation will involve police, customs, intelligence agencies and the armed forces alongside health and social services. A whole-of-government approach is essential: drug supply chains are transnational and exploit gaps between agencies. Coordinated action reduces duplication and — if done right — can combine interdiction with diversion into treatment for low-level offenders.  

Third, the plan emphasises public communication and the role of media outlets. The President urged restraint and responsibility in reporting — not to silence scrutiny, but to avoid sensational coverage that may stigmatise victims, advertise markets, or hamper investigations. That is a delicate ask; free media oversight remains vital. The better balance is responsible, investigative reporting that exposes trafficking networks while foregrounding rehabilitation and community responses.  

Yet ambition and rhetoric are not the same as implementation. There are three immediate risks that Sri Lanka must manage if “Nation United” is to succeed without collateral damage.

First, the risk of excessive securitisation. Deploying the tri-forces to assist police can be necessary where organised networks are heavily armed or international. But heavy-handed operations without careful legal oversight can produce human rights violations, drive users further underground, and discourage families from seeking treatment. The state must ensure clear rules of engagement, judicial oversight, and post-operation accountability mechanisms — otherwise short-term arrests will amount to little long-term benefit. International experience also shows that militarised crackdowns often displace trade rather than eliminate it. 

Second, the gap between promises of rehabilitation and actual capacity. The President’s rhetoric will ring hollow unless there are more beds in treatment centres, trained counsellors, community rehabilitation programmes and social reintegration support for those leaving treatment. Sri Lanka needs an immediate audit of existing services, rapid capacity expansion in high-need districts, and funding commitments that extend beyond the initial publicity of a launch event. Public-private partnerships and civil society organisations that already work on addiction should be integrated and resourced rather than sidelined. 

Third, prevention must be long-term. Awareness campaigns that run for weeks around a presidential launch are useful, but durable prevention requires sustained school-based education, employment and mentorship programmes for vulnerable youth, and social policies that address the conditions that make drug markets attractive (unemployment, social exclusion, and lack of recreational and cultural outlets). The campaign will succeed only if it shifts the structural incentives that produce demand. 

What practical steps should the government take now? First, publish a clear implementation plan with measurable targets and timelines: quantities of arrests should be accompanied by targets for treatment placements, reductions in overdose deaths, and improvements in case conviction rates for high-level traffickers. Second, ring-fence a portion of the criminal-asset proceeds law to fund treatment and community reintegration. Third, invite independent monitoring: human rights bodies, media ombudsmen and civil society should be able to audit operations to prevent rights abuses. Fourth, invest in drug-use surveillance and research so policy can be adapted as new trends emerge. Finally, strengthen cross-border cooperation on interdiction and intelligence sharing

President Dissanayake has set a political tone that matters: a promise both to hit traffickers hard and to treat users with dignity. That rhetorical balancing act is the right starting point. The political test — and the country’s test — will be whether institutions translate speech into sustainable systems: courts that prosecute kingpins, police that respect due process, health services that scale up rehabilitation, and communities that remain engaged beyond the headlines.

The “Nation United” campaign can succeed, but only if the state resists two temptations: the short-term optics of mass arrests for quick headlines, and the long-term neglect of treatment and prevention. The road ahead will be difficult; a whole nation cannot be mobilised overnight. But if the government backs the launch with clear resources, legal safeguards and measurable targets — and if civil society and the media hold the state accountable while helping communities rebuild — Sri Lanka can make meaningful progress against a menace that has cost lives, families and futures. The President spoke of victory; making that pledge real is the work that should  begin without delay.